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All 17.3 - Who's in Charge
“And how are you today?” Victor greeted Pierce as he walked into the mess. Mr. Webber looked up from his tea to look at the other man, who sat down across from him. “Nothing to complain about that I haven’t a hundred times already,” he offered. “How about you? Feeling any different?” “Not particularly, though I’m a tad upset with this development,” he replied, flicking a piece of his bangs to underscore his meaning. “You could dye it,” Pierce offered, taking a drink, “It’s not hard, from what I’ve heard.” “That means I either have to dye it once a week, or look like a skunk whenever the roots start to show. Hardly worth it,” Victor replied. Pierce just shrugged. “Well, there are disguise magics. Wigs. Hats. Tons of options, really.” “I don’t see much point in the hassle.” “Then you obviously can’t be too broken up about it,” Pierce said wryly. “I suppose not,” he conceded. “At any rate, I wanted to talk to you.” “About what?” “Your eidolon.” At the mention of Sienna, Pierce blanched. “...What about her?” he asked warily. “Why the animosity? And more to the point, what needs to be done so that she can work with us without needing to knock you out?” Victor’s questions caused the other man to shrink into the bench. When he didn’t reply, Victor coaxed him until eventually he offered, “If this is something you don’t want to speak about, then summon her so I can ask her directly.” With a look of being caught between a rock and an a hard place, Pierce finally offered, barely audibly, “I’m weak, I’m afraid, and I’m not an adventurer. It’s all I can do, to ignore what’s really going on and move forward.” Victor’s look remained blank as he replied, “The gods of law ascended you. That alone should be proof of what you can do.” Pierce shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. He looked like he was about to reply, but said nothing. Eventually, he whispered, “...I’m not an adventurer.” “Summon Sienna,” was Victor’s demand as he stood. Looking defeated, Pierce conducted the ritual. After the moment required, the stoat-like woman Sienna stood in the mess hall beside them. She looked about, swiftly getting her bearings; when her eyes fell on Pierce’s miserable and hunched form, she moved to strike him again. Victor’s hand shot out and grabbed Sienna’s wrist, stopping her. “There will be no fighting on the ship.” The eidolon’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the man who had dare touch her. “And who’re you to decide that?” she challenged. Victor did not reply, but maintained his firm gaze and grip. Wrenching her hand loose, she turned to face him, “So what, you defending Percy? Or you just tossin’ your weight about?” She took a combative pose, “Caitlyn told me about you, devil man. I don’t care who you think you are, you’ve got nothing on me, and I won’t be bossed about like some.” Victor made a humourless face of vitreol, “Yes, I’m sure Caitlyn made the best of non-biased impressions. Regardless, I am neither commanding you nor controlling you. I want to know what your contention is with Mr. Webber, so that it can be resolved enough that you can work together on this mission.” Sienna gave a harsh laugh, “You can use all yer fancy words, devil, but I ain’t workin’ with him and I ain’t forgivin’ him either. What he did there ain’t no excuse for.” She leaned her glaive against the table, putting it down. “Be that as it may, as I still don’t know what transpired between you, I’d appreciate it if you stopped assaulting him upon your arrival in Materia.” “Yeah, I’d bet you’d like that. You’re a fancy talkin’ boot-licker like Percy, ain’t ya? You want me to quit hittin’ him? You’d best make me.” Victor’s eyes narrowed, “If that’s what’s required, then that’s what I’ll do.” She laughed again, “Oh ho ho! You think I’m scared of you, devil man? You ain’t even a real devil; that’s what them spirits were on about, wasn’t it? You’re all wrapped up in some fancy devil spell makin’ you a soft old man.” She made to turn, “Sod off, old man. You don’t know what you’re dealin’ with.” Taking a few steps away, she said, “I’ll be lookin’ about, Percy, so don’t you even dare unsummon me till you get my say-so.” As she walked towards the door, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning over her shoulder with a look of poison on her polecat-like face, she barely caught a glimpse of Victor’s stoney glare before his fist connected with her jaw, knocking her back. “I believe you’re the one who doesn’t know what they are dealing with,” he said coldly as she regained her balance and faced him with fire in her eyes and a grimace on her face. She spat to one side and growled before lunging towards him, claws bared. Victor dodged about, expression grim and stern as she made to slice him with her sharp, feral nails. He made a few jabs himself, weak attempts compared to the natural advantage of her claws. Again and again she swiped, sometimes grazing past by a hair’s breadth, occasionally landing a clean cut that left bloody gashes in Victor’s clothes and skin. He responded with blows of his own, that, while markedly weaker, were connecting more frequently than her attacks. “Stop! What are you doing this for!?” Pierce’s voice was part-yelled, part tinted with fear. “Shut yer mouth, this ain’t about you,” Sienna retorted, dodging a near blow from Victor. “Not so high and mighty without a weapon, are ya, devil man?” she directed towards her opponent. “Nothing but another weak, spineless human.” Victor made a small ‘hmn’ noise accompanied by a look of derision. He lashed out quickly with his foot, and happened to just barely catch her ankle, sending her tripping to the ground with a squawk of offense. As she stood up, he lunged forward and sent her sprawling backwards into a bench, solidly welded to the ship’s floor. Tripping back over it, she hit her head solidly on the table. Catching herself and pulling herself upright again, she glared at him, only to have the stare returned, cold and emotionless. “You’re stronger, and I am sorely disadvantaged without a weapon. But I have the greater speed. For every hit you land, I land two. We can see who lasts longer.” Sienna charged forward and pressed her offense again, growling ferally. Pierce begged them to stop again, but was ignored by both combatants. As their battle continued, he moved away to the far corner of the room, eyes shut and arms wrapped tightly against his chest, pointed at the wall and away from them both. Their fever pitch increased, as both attacked each other relentlessly. It was a battle of attrition, as Victor had said: without weapons, and considering Victor’s weaker attacks and Sienna’s lesser accuracy, the two continued to rail on each other for minutes without pause, unable to disable their opponent effectively. Finally, the pair pulled back, breathing heavily. Their exhaustion was apparent in their stances and faces, sweat pouring from both. Their eyes, however, had lost none of their focus. “You ain’t bad for a human,” Sienna noted, through deep breaths. Victor nodded towards her to acknowledge the compliment, equally out of breath and bleeding from the numerous cuts and gashes she had left on him during the fight. “Not the smartest, but you ain’t bad.” “Referring to the glaive?” Victor asked, referencing the weapon that still lay propped on a table, ignored throughout the battle. Sienna nodded subtly, affirming his guess. “I wasn’t going to be the first to resort to it. I would have taken it from you, if you drew it on me first, but you didn’t use it either.” “Didn’t need it,” she replied bluntly. “Neither did I,” he returned. Sienna grinned, her demeanour showing something other than disdain and hate for the first time since her arrival. “Guess that’s right.” She gestured towards him with a tilt of her head, “You’re bleedin’.” “I noticed,” he replied, not looking away. “Ready to give?” Victor’s gaze was still resolute, “I will not.” Sienna spat to the side again, “Good.” She jumped forward again, and the pair proceeded to round two of their struggle. Despite both Victor and Sienna beginning to tire, they did not pause or rest, landing blows on each other as quickly and forcefully as they could manage. Finally, Sienna ducked under Victor’s arm and came up quickly, grabbing it and twisting it behind his back, catching him in a hold. Before he could manage to pull himself free, she had wrestled him to the ground and pinned him against the cold steel floor, smearing the blood that had been dripping there throughout the fight. He gave a half-hearted struggle before going limp. “Ready...to give?” she asked through staggered breaths. Suddenly, he pushed himself under, sliding away like grease; as he popped upright again, he elbowed her heavily between her shoulder blades. “No,” he replied, falling back into a defensive position as she did the same. “But...I’m willing...to entertain a draw.” “Drawing is for crayons,” she said breathlessly, “...but...unsummoning by force...is bollocks. Get a bugger of a headache, for days.” “Well. It would be...rather rude of me, to do that.” “Yeah.” “Shame, to be rude…” “Worried ‘bout that now, after you clocked me in the face?” she said, though without any discernable anger. “Depends on if you’re going to be polite.” “I don’t gotta be polite to you.” “Neither do I.” “...Yeah, guess you don’t.” She dropped her stance, “Alright, devil man, take yer draw. You earned it.” Victor dropped his stance as well, leaning on his knees and breathing heavily. Sienna sat back on the table behind her, breath equally ragged. Victor walked over to a sink, found a cup and poured himself some water. “Drink?” he offered, holding out a second mug. “Ain’t you gentlemanly?” she asked smugly. “Comes with being a bootlicker,” he said dryly, drinking more before walking over and handing her a cup that she swiftly drained. “You serious, all with the politikin’ and business and stuff?” she said as she finished, holding the mug back out. “I don’t look the part?” She shrugged, “Least you don’t fight like one.” “That’s why I work with gnolls,” he replied, returning to the sink. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Dogfolk,” he clarified. “Don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m thinking dogs don’t have much boots to lick.” “That’s why I have a harder time with the people who pay me than I do with anyone I’m supposed to be dealing with for them,” he explained as he refilled the glasses again. “It’s a job though.” “Sounds stupid.” “If politicians want to pay me for going on hunting trips with some of the best game hunters in Mirilarin, I’m not going to stop them,” he said with a muted grin, passing her the cup. “Ha!” She gave a bark of laughter as she drained the cup again. Tossing the empty mug back to him, she smirked, “Guess you ain’t bad, for a bootlicking devil.” Her eyes narrowed, “But don’t think that means you can tell me what to do.” “All I want is to destroy the invaders and protect the planes,” Victor lifted his hands defensively. “If you want to help, that’s excellent. If you don’t, I don’t presume to make you. All I want is, should you want to help us, for everyone to work as a unit. There’s enough tension between all of us already, and we’re lucky to be making much progress at all.” Sienna narrowed her eyes as he spoke, but he continued, “I don’t know what’s between you and Percival. I don’t care. It’s not my business. But if we are going to repel the All, we need to at least act like a team. And that means, at least, not attacking each other.” “Coming from the guy who punched me in the face,” she said, not entirely humourlessly. He grinned slightly, “Attacking each other unprovoked.” “Oh, he deserves it, the slimy, whiny rat,” she replied, shooting a glance over to the corner where Pierce stood. Victor frowned slightly, “Again. I don’t know. I don’t care. He has offered to help. He is capable of helping. And it doesn’t take much physical violence to render him useless. You have offered to help. You are capable of helping. But if you’re going to attack him every time we could use your assistance, you make us choose between you. I don’t want to sit and calculate whether his magic or your strength is more useful. Don’t make me.” Sienna looked at him flatly for a few seconds, then she snorted and turned away, “Yeah, fine. Makes sense. Bigger fights and all that. I don’t do teamwork,” she added the last statement with a hint of venom. Turning back, she said seriously, “I don’t like him. I don’t take orders. I won’t be messed with and I won’t be bossed.” Victor leaned forward, matching her seriousness, “I won’t accept failure. I won’t tolerate mutiny. If you kill our shared enemies, I don’t care how. Don’t attack allies, and don’t undermine our progress, and you can do whatever you want with whoever you want.” “Big words, coming from a human,” she glared at him. “A lot of defiance, coming from an overgrown ferret,” he retorted. She twitched at the insult, both her face and claws, but the pair just continued to hold each other in their stern and aggressive gaze. Eventually, she broke the stare, shrugging, “Pfeh. Fine. I’ll stop hitting Percy. Wouldn’t want to accidentally kill him or something. Bad for me.” Looking back to Victor, she said with narrow eyes, “You got a lot of balls, devil man.” His eyes remained imperious and firm, “Don’t ever assume I’m bluffing.” “Naw,” she said, standing up. “You ain’t the sort. You’ve killed people, haven’t ya? Lot of people. You fancy yourself a predator; you ain’t fuckin’ about.” Standing across from him, she said, “You don’t try to make me do nothin’ I don’t wanna do, and I don’t try nothin’ to piss you off. Deal?” Victor made a small gesture of assent, “Deal.” The pair looked at each other for another second before Sienna said loudly, without looking, “Send me back now. Gotta sleep this off, and I sure as shit ain’t getting better standing on this ruddy plane.” Without acknowledgement, Pierce made a few muttered sounds and gestures, and Sienna disappeared. Walking over to Pierce, who still stood facing the wall, Victor apologized, “I’m sorry if that was...untoward.” Pierce mumbled, “No...it’s what you do…” “You have to work out whatever this issue is you have,” Victor offered, to no response. After a few seconds, he turned, “I’d better go see if Lucca will heal me. I seem to be getting blood everywhere. Unless you can?” Pierce shook his head. “Alright. I’ll come and clean the mess in here afterwards, don’t bother yourself with it.” With that, he turned and left. Walking, or more accurately, stumbling, down the hall to the common room, he opened the door to find Lucca and Cress excitedly absorbed in a game of stacking small wooden bricks. When they didn’t look up, he cleared his throat to get their attention. Cress glanced over quickly and did a double-take. Giving a low whistle, he asked, “What the crap happened to you, Mr. E?” Lucca looked over as well, his expression quickly becoming one of shock and indignation as he fumbled the block he was placing. “What the actual fuck is this nonsense?! What did you do?!” Victor kept his air of calm as he replied with a bit of a smirk, “I got into a bit of a disagreement with a polecat.” “...The fuck’s a polecat?” Cress mumbled, but was ignored as Lucca got up to more closely inspect Victor’s wounds. Based on his appearance, it looked like he had gotten into a wrestling match with a tiger. As Lucca picked over him, he added, “I was hoping you’d be kind enough to patch me up before I had a shower.” “You’re a moron, you know that?” Lucca said brusquely, moving around him and tutting at the jagged claw marks that covered most of his upper body. “Why the hell would you do that? Did you at least get whatever the fuck it was sorted out?” Victor grinned more widely, “I believe I successfully defended my honour, yes.” Lucca glared at him, “Of course you did, asshole, of course you did. I should refuse, on the grounds that you’re a dipshit for doing something like this in the first place!” Despite his words and his continued grumbling, Lucca proceeded to cast the numerous magics required to mend the extensive bloody wounds. As he finished, he muttered, “Pshh. Your honour. Whatever, donut-face.” Victor stretched, testing his now-whole body. “Well, I believe you’ll find that Miss Sienna is somewhat more amicable now, and much less likely to disable Pierce, so I’m sure it wasn’t a complete waste of time and effort.” He picked at his still-ruined shirt, “And clothes. I should have someone repair these; it’s not like it’s exactly simple to get more.” The druid’s tone was sarcastic as he replied, “Woohoo! So, what, does she only speak ‘punch’ too or something?” His voice became serious again as he continued, “I guess that’s good though, the results are what count.” Making a face and scowling, he added, “And fuck you if you think you’re gonna get me to fix your clothes too! Go make Mr. Webber do it or some shit!” Victor inclined his head, “I wasn’t implying that you should, you’ve done more than enough fixing my skin. Thank you very much for your ill-deserved assistance.” Sticking out his tongue, Lucca went to sit back down. “Yeah, whatever. No problem. Maybe try to take it a bit easier next time you have a conversation with her, eh?” Victor snorted, “If I went any easier, I would have been ripped apart. Apparently I need to improve my hand-to-hand skills.” Bowing his head again, he added, “Thank you again,” before leaving the room and heading towards the showers. Cress just watched him leave, then looked over to where Lucca was trying to stack a particularly tricky block. “...Does he do that shit a lot? ‘Cause that doesn’t look like the first time you’ve had to patch his ass up. Also: the fuck’s a polecat?” Category:Advent of the All